The Golden Trio and the Disasterous Potions Class Part 1

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Hey guys! So this chapter is actually one of three parts. I was going to make one chapter about the same time period from different perspectives, but it turned that each part would be long enough for a full chapter each, so this chapter and the two after that are technically part of one really long chapter. I hope you enjoy this (1/3) chapter! 

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As the Slytherins and Gryffindors slowly piled into the dark, cold dungeon classroom, they were greeted by Professor Slughorn leaning on his desk with a small heart-shaped pink flask barely visible in his callused hand. The class slowly separated after a few annoyed orders from the exasperated teacher to get into groups of two for that day's assignment.

"Choose carefully, you'll want someone reliable for this specific potion!"

Chatter consumed the classroom as students tried to guess what they could be brewing. Hermione Granger, of course, knew exactly what potion she was to be making today, but she was not perplexed by Slughorn's warning.

"Ron, you will partner with Goyle," she called as she passed redhead and was about to turn to find her partner for the class period.

"WHAT?" Ron shrieked. His face reflected his disgust with the suggestion.

"You have to brew this potion with Goyle so that Harry can talk to Malfoy," she said coolly, about to turn around again.

"What about you then!" Ron argued, pulling Hermione back by the arm, "Why can't I work with you?"

"Because someone has to work with Parkinson so she doesn't try to partner with Malfoy," Hermione snarled back annoyedly like it was the most obvious thing in the world, "And I have something to discuss with her," she added in a lower voice, mostly to herself. She snapped her arm back from her friend's grip and strode away.

It was such a simple plan, really. Hermione would see what Parkinson's problem was, tell her to get over it, and Harry would be happy. Unfortunately, Pansy Parkinson clearly had other ideas.

"Granger, what do you think you're doing?" the girl growled.

"I am organizing our potions ingredients," Hermione said in the matter-of-factly tone of hers.

"And why exactly are they our ingredients?" Parkinson glared at her new potions partner, "Why aren't you working with your Weasel boyfriend or The-Boy-Who-Should-Have-Died-Twice?"

Hermione chose to ignore her insults. They weren't uncommon exactly. And responding would only complicate the task at hand. "Because I reckon you're decent at potions, more so than either of them." 

"As much as I appreciate compliments," Parkinson said with a sneer that said the opposite, "I can see right through you. What do you want?"

"Oh, nothing," Hermione said, with just as much cunning in her voice, "Except distract you so Harry can work with Malfoy." Her plan was working, so there would be no harm in admitting it. Ron was chopping rose thorns a few tables over with Goyle standing next to him and poking the bubbles in their cauldron with a slightly melted stirrer. Harry was stabbing at the ingredients on his workbench and Malfoy was giving him some instructions, though Harry did not seem to be listening.

"And why exactly do you think Draco would want to work with Potter?" Parkinson insisted and it was clear what she was truly asking: Why would Malfoy want to be with Harry?

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